Do you know the expression “thin places?” It stems from the Celtic tradition, but is often used by many Christians to describe those monumental experiences in their life of faith, the ones that are instrumental in shaping who we are or pivotal in our understanding of God. The phrase references the literal thinner air that we experience on the mountain tops, or simply the metaphorical thinness that is our distance from the divine. Generations have celebrated these moments, cherishing them and longing for more. Many embark on pilgrimages to find them, sometimes to literal mountaintops. Experiences there dot the topographical maps of our faith journey as tangible, palatable moments in our lives.
As Joseph Harvard writes, “strange things happen on mountains in Scripture. When the Bible says someone is going up a mountain, an epiphany is about to happen(i).” Today’s texts are no exception. At the mountaintop the travelers are met by an all-encompassing God who surrounds them, isolating them from the world as they know it and offering them guidance and words of direction. To Moses, God comes in a fiery cloud of splendor, and provides the foundation on which the Israelites are to build their lives – those tablets of stone that contain the laws and commandments. To the disciples, God comes again in a cloud, and speaks with that same thundering voice as in Jesus’ baptism, with the proclamation of Christ’s divinity and authority.
In each of these stories, the individuals experience radical transformation. Moses returns with a shining complexion as if reflecting the very face of God. Jesus is seen with a similar shining face and dazzling white clothes. This physical change is in part what has earned the Matthew text, along with its counterparts in Mark and Luke, the title of “the Transfiguration.” It is a story title so pivotal, in fact, that it is part of our liturgical calendar, on the bridge between the season of Epiphany and the beginning of Lent. Transfiguration. It signifies that in this story, things change. Not in small, subtle ways, but in transforming ways that alter our very appearance.
The Taize community in France offers a lovely description of the meaning of the Transfiguration, saying that it is:
above all as the celebration that the presence of Christ which takes charge of everything in us and transfigures even that which disturbs us about ourselves. God penetrates those hardened, incredulous, even disquieting regions within us, about which we really do not know what to do. God penetrates them with the life of the Spirit and acts upon those regions and gives them God’s own face. (ii)
The Transfiguration prompts us to consider those life-changing experiences in our own lives, the mountaintop moments or thin places in which we, too, have experienced God. Or, perhaps those times when we have been like the disciples, observers of the mountaintop moments of others in ways that have inspired or changed us. For me, my thoughts immediately go to time I have spent in Guatemala.
My first trip was ten years ago this year, when I traveled with a group from my seminary for a May term class. I remember immediately falling in love – with the culture, the language, the sights and sounds, and most importantly, the ministry of Cedepca – the Protestant Center for Pastoral Studies in Central America(iii). Cedepca began as a grassroots movement in Guatemala more than thirty years ago, as some Christians began to consider how they could be the most faithful to Jesus Christ in a continent where the majority of the population suffered from poverty and social exclusion, and in the face of violence and war. Cedepca seeks to transform through education, and is a center that contributes to the transformation of lives and contexts by providing direct training and accompaniment, and by offering spaces for reflection to women and men from diverse Christian traditions, communities, and contexts. They do this through four ministries: Biblical and Theological Education to both lay people and pastors through the Walk to Emmaus Seminary; a Women’s Ministry program that encourages and supports women throughout Central America; a Disaster Ministry program that focuses on disaster responses, clean water, and psycho-social preparedness and support in the face of tragedy; and Intercultural Encounters, which invites groups from around the world to engage in reflection, dialogue, and mutual service in search of a more just, tolerant, and equitable world .
I was so touched by their ministry that I jumped at the chance to serve as a volunteer in Guatemala the summer following my first visit, and then returned in 2010 for a week of vacation – balancing a bit of volunteer with exploring other parts of the country. Just over a year ago, I accepted the nomination to serve on the Cedepca USA board, a non-profit organization here in the United States whose purpose is to connect individuals and faith communities with the ministries of CEDEPCA in Central America(iv). As a part of this commitment, our annual board meetings every few years include extended time in Guatemala, where we get the joy of seeing the ministry of Cedepca firsthand. During the week we met with Cedepca staff and heard countless testimonials from seminary students, women who have participated in the women’s ministry workshops, and those who have received assistance from the disaster ministry. It was, to say the least, an inspirational week. Each day was literally filled with moments where I could see God’s hand at work.
One of our first days in Guatemala we shared in the weekly devotion with the staff, which was akin to a short service of worship. Neli Miranda, the dean of the seminary, shared a short reflection on the day’s Scripture – the lectionary text from the week before in Matthew 5. She spoke of what it meant to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world. The text I had spent countless hours studying just the week before to preach my own sermon here, suddenly came to life in new and beautiful ways. The roles were shifted and I was on the listening side. She shared the important role of salt in the world, and how both it and light are essential for our very existence. She reminded us that our faith in God is just as essential, and should be something we did not neglect, but rather brought out from under our baskets and let shine for all to see. In these thirty minutes, I was swept into worship, one where I wasn’t in charge of anything, something that is so essential to spiritual health, but that pastors don’t do regularly enough for our own good. This moment reminded me of the ways Cedepca continues to be a light to me, as a place where I am encouraged to deepen my own sense of call in this world. Not just as a pastor, but as a child of God.
We traveled to Cobán, a city in the Guatemalan highlands a few hours away from the capital. There, we were warmly welcomed by Delia Leal, who helps facilitate both the seminary courses offered there as well as serving as the regional coordinator for the women’s ministry. Delia is a Nazarene pastor who is currently serving as pastor of a Baptist church in the heart of Cobán. She greeted us with words that could have been Scripture themselves, echoing the power of the words of Paul. She spoke of the awareness that we came from the United States at a particularly difficult time, from all around a country where people are arguing and are deeply divided. Her words were spot-on. Many of us were weary from far more than the windy trip on the van. To us, though, she spoke words of hope and promise, that in all places and times, God is present and working. A sense of peace came over me. I was able to let go of a lot of tension and anxiety I had been carrying, which opened me up to receive the stories that would come. My breaths deepened. I knew I was entering thin space.
That night we crashed a seminary class, and heard from students who had just begun the new semester and were studying the History of Christianity. Some of them traveled several hours from rural areas each week to learn together, and all were genuinely excited about the opportunity to deepen their understanding of the Bible and the church. Many were already serving as pastors, some for years, without any formal education. One man recounted how he has left the church as a teenager. He did not see the church responding to the very real problems in Guatemala, particularly during a time of extreme violence and genocide. He had not necessarily given up his faith or belief in God, but he had given up on the church. Then, many years later, someone invited him to a class Cedepca was offering. He was amazed that there would be a safe place where he could really ask his deep questions and not be condemned for having doubts. He rediscovered a love for the Bible, and has continued to take classes. He is even slowly wading back into church involvement with a new congregation. The pastor of that church was sitting next to him at the table. If that’s not a sign of God’s relentless pursuit of us, I don’t know what is. God meets us on the mountaintops.
We gathered with a group from the Women’s Ministry. Many of these women knew all too well the harsh realities of domestic abuse, and all of them had strong experiences with a machismo culture that largely values women more as property and possession than as people. As they spoke, though, of what it meant to them to read the Bible and know that God’s love was even meant for them, as women, you could see their faces change. They started to sparkle a bit in their eyes. They had grown into women who were empowered, and who could claim that they, too, were beloved children of God. One woman’s face shone as she talked about how things had changed in her own house. After a few classes, her husband noted that she had not asked his permission to leave the house. She smiled and said, “no, I don’t need your permission.” He paused, she said, and then agreed. He responded by saying how much happier she was, and how things were better in their house and their marriage since these classes began. While we know that not all of the women in this program have such a positive experience at home, these instances give incredible glimmers of hope for a changing culture in their country. Their faces remind me of those who have returned from the mountaintop, shining and bright, for they have experienced God.
“Lord, it is good for us to be here.” Peter says. That was my refrain as we encountered each group or ministry in Guatemala, as we sat with staff members of Cedepca and heard their hopes and visions for what God might have on the horizon, and as we took our places around tables to conduct the business of our board, seeking how we can best share this ministry with others. In all of these, there was a sense of the sacred. They were holy moments, ones where you paused, smiled and nodded – yes, this is where we are supposed to be. It is good to be with you, friends new and old, and even better, we are in the presence of God together.
I could go on with these stories. It seems almost every moment of my trip was surrounded by illustrations of God’s presence. It was overwhelming in the best of ways. A week full of thin places. For me, this is the joy of being transported into another culture and world – it strips away all of those things that can distract me from truly encountering God on a daily basis. Those moments happen, of course, sometimes in mundane ways, but in Guatemala my rhythm of life is so different that I’m forced to notice and reflect on things in new ways. Time seems to slow a bit, even with a full schedule of activities, and I am more aware of the swirl of colors, sounds, sights, and smells that infiltrated my senses. Here’s a short clip from my last day, which was a day of rest in Antigua:
I’ll admit, it was hard to leave when the time came. As much as I missed my boys at home, and actually the regular routine of my life here which I very much enjoy, being on the mountaintop brought a sense of serenity and peace that I wanted to hold onto. This is what happens on our thin places and mountaintops. In these thin places, the weight of the world seems to lessen just a bit, and we might be freer to experience something new. On the top of the mountain, the disciples are alive. They, too, were caught up in the cloud and surrounded by God’s grace. No doubt they recognize the figures of Moses and Elijah, pivotal figures of authority in faith. Peter is quick to respond to the incredible nature of this event, and offers to build tents so that they can stay there just a bit longer. But mountaintop moments are not meant to stay on the mountaintop.
In the Chronicles of Narnia series, C.S. Lewis places the Christ figure Aslan on the top of a mountain for his final words. He says:
Here on the mountain I have spoken to you clearly. I will not often do so down in Narnia. Here on the mountain, the air is clear and your mind is clear; as you drop down into Narnia, the air will thicken. Take great care that it does not confuse your mind. And the signs which you have learned here will not look at all as you expect them to look, when you meet them there. That is why it is so important to know them by heart and pay no attention to appearance. Remember the signs and believe the signs. Nothing Else Matters(v).
On the mountaintop, God gives us signs and inspiration for the journey ahead. As I boarded the plane for my trip home, my heart was full of joy, and mind filled with new ideas. While I was tired from a week of full days and travel, communicating in a second language, I had energy and excitement that I know will carry me for a while. That is why thin places and mountaintop moments are so important. They help prepare us for the journey ahead. This week launches us into a significant journey of faith as we begin the season of Lent on Wednesday. We will mark ourselves with ashes and be reminded of our own sinfulness and failings, and begin a 40 day span, not including Sundays, of reflection and penitence. It can be a hard time in the church year because we have to confront the less than pretty aspects of our lives. But the mountaintop prepares us, by reminding us that we are never far from God’s presence. Even when we leave that mountaintop, God is with us. God sends us out into the world, just as God sent Moses, Elijah, Jesus, and the disciples. Aslan’s words indicate that these mountaintop moments are just the beginning. In fact, we might look at them as our commissioning. For once we have been to the mountain, we are transformed. Then, the real work of living begins. May we enter that work with our faces shining, assured that we are close to God, both on our mountaintops and beyond. Amen.
~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
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i Joseph S. Harvard III, “Matthew 17:1-13: Homiletical Perspective” Feasting on the Gospels: Matthew, Volume 2. Cynthia A. Jarvis and E. Elizabeth Johnson, editors. (Westminster John Knox Press, 2013).
ii Kathryn Spink, A Universal Heart, as quoted in Imaging the Word, Volume 3, p.148.
iii You can learn more at www.cedepca.org (website is in both Spanish and English).
iv www.cedepca.us
v C.S. Lewis, The Silver Chair (New York: HarperCollins, 1981), as quoted by Maryetta Madeleine Anschutz in “Pastoral Perspective: Matthew 17:1-19,” Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 1, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010).
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